


Evolution of the Unnoticeable

by Mr_Dadamy_Blake



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4411472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Dadamy_Blake/pseuds/Mr_Dadamy_Blake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim didn’t mind, though, they were all too busy to notice him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Inner Workings of a Not-Robin

**Author's Note:**

> AU: What If Jason never dies and Tim never becomes Robin?  
> My take on this trope, on I'm deeply in love with. I just finished editing this and I'm not perfect so there's going to be mistakes. Don't be afraid to let me know if there's any! (Any missing 'L' are not my fault the key is broken so sometimes it does it's job and others it doesn't, this has been a PSA) Enjoy!  
> [My Tumblr](http://aguilillacolaroja.tumblr.com)

Jack and Janet Drake were the young loving CEO’s of Drake Industries, who not only ran their own company but still managed to raise a child. Timothy Jackson Drake was a curious little boy of great intelligence, or so everyone was lead to believe. Surely he must be, what with his amazing parents. Timothy Jackson Drake was also a quiet boy. He was polite, so well behaved that sometimes you couldn’t help but forget he was there, the perfect little child.

He was alone in his kitchen. The nanny had left various things out for Timothy to make breakfast with. So he had gone around the kitchen reheating eggs and sausage and pouring orange juice into his glass before sitting down. His kitchen was pristine, not a single dish that was not in use was out of place, everything different shades of blue and green. The only thing clashing were the three cushions Timothy used so he could reach the table.

The paper had been set down on his right. Fork in his hand and ready to take his first bite he read the headline: _Jason Wayne_ _barely survives warehouse explosion. Saved by Batman._ Timothy was astonished by the development. He ripped the paper open to the article but couldn’t actually bring himself to read what the words said. All that floated in his head was the image of Jason lying on a hospital bed with Bruce by his side. _Robin_ had almost died. Tim had seen him fly and stumble various times, Robin shining bright trailing behind Batman. Robin fighting crooks every night and winning, Robin taking hits, Robin evading every bullet and knife, Robin _couldn’t_ die.

Timothy set his fork down and stared at the picture. Jason bandaged from head to toe. Jason sleeping, too drugged to be awake, too _hurt._ Timothy couldn’t see the extent of his injuries from the picture alone but he could imagine what an explosion could do to a normal person. A normal person _would have died_ but no, Jason was alive. Timothy couldn’t just stay _sitting._ So he went out.

He had to cross most of the rich suburbs by foot for half an hour before he arrived to the first visible bus stop. If you were rich you didn’t need a bus, you could _buy_ one if you really wanted to. He shoved his fare into the slot and took a seat for a two hour ride to central Gotham.

It’s when he made it to the hospital that he realized he had no good explanation for going there, for entering Jason’s room and staring at him until he gets better. So he glanced at the building from his spot and turned around to leave. He walked Gotham with his hands in the pockets of khakis and he looked around. There was a woman scolding her child right beside him, both of them too occupied to notice Tim watching.  

He moved further down the street and watched a scared lady throw her bag away from her as the petty thief threatened her life. He stood at the entrance if the alley and not once was he glanced at, not even when he quietly placed the ladies wallet next to her and walked away. Tim turned to see the lady run out distraught and wildly looking around. Probably hoping a police officer that cared was close by.

He reached a bus stop and sat. There’s a man talking angrily in another language in front of him, an old lady humming an old tune as she waited with them. A boy not much older than Tim standing there, clothes ragged and dirty all over, eyeing the old ladies open purse. No doubt he was planning on pick pocketing his fare from her and maybe some more. Tim didn’t mind, though, they were all too busy to notice him. He sat there quietly until he was on the bus noticing everything about everyone while they were enwrapped in their own lives, too used to children riding public transportation by themselves to notice one that was too well dressed to be there.

When he was home again he wished he wasn’t because his uneaten breakfast was still there and the orange juice was lukewarm. His newspaper was strewn all over the kitchen from his hurry and Tim can’t help but let a little sigh escape him. Silence had always been so loud; always ringing in his ears louder than anything he could blast on the radio to drown it. It knew how to swim, so it swam circles around his noise and waited for it to tire so it could lunge and hinge itself unto Tim. Silence let his thoughts circle around him freely, most of them loudly yelling Jason and indestructible and _why._

So Tim turned on the radio, the station never changed from the energetic pop music. It was meaningless, catchy sound that chased away the silence for a moment. He let the noise run freely and turned to pick his mess up. When he was done he cut the picture of Jason lying hurt in his hospital bed and shoved it right next to the picture of Jason jumping roof tops, smiling. A picture to serve a reminder that Jason wasn’t as untouchable as he seemed, that Jason could _go away._

Tim doesn’t sneak out that night. He’s afraid of what he’ll see. The thought of Batman being sadder and madder than usual, of Batman not having Robin by his side, terrified Tim.

 

Thoughts of Jason running through the silence were a good description of Tim’s next month. All was the same for him, his routine went uninterrupted but there was always _Jason_ in the back of his mind. Instead of sitting in his usual chair he goes for the one on the left, seeing as his was occupied by his dad. He looked surprised that Tim was awake at seven in the morning but said nothing. His mother had been kind enough to remember and set a plate of pancakes in front of him.

“Good morning.” His voice felt weird, hearing it vibrate through his throat, using it... “How was Paris?”

“It was good son,” His dad said. His mother made a noncommittal noise that Tim took as agreement. “The parks were very pretty and the air clean. You would have liked it there. It’s very different from Gotham.”

Tim tried not to flinch. He looked down at his pancakes and regretted ever asking. He ate in silence as his dad recounted their trip to Paris. His mother sometimes quipped here and there and soon enough the conversation had left Tim out and they’re talking about their next trip.

“I’m sorry son,” His dad pulled out the last page of the newspaper after he remembered Tim. “Would you like to read the comic?”

“Yes dad.” Tim’s voice was quiet, a whisper against the silence and even smaller when his dad gave him the comics page and continued planning the next trip. Tim didn’t read the comic strip. He set it down and cleaned his spot.

When he entered his room, as pristine as the kitchen with all of his toys stored away in a specific order and posters with planets on them aligned perfectly with one another, and saw the suit set out for him he knew that night he wouldn’t see Batman. Robin was still injured but Batgirl was seen more often now.

Instead of putting the suit on he went outside to watch the birds fly, he had a whole day before his parents needed him. He fell into the pond separating his parent’s estate from the neighbors following a robin. It had walked to the edge of it to drink but when Tim went too close it was scared away and he’d lost his balance.

Tim had swum to the wrong side of the pond.

Alfred found him.

“My dear boy you should be more careful while outside.” Tim felt the excitement run its course as he looked wide eyed at Alfred.

“I’m sorry, sir.” He watched Alfred make sure he wasn’t hurt.

“Now what’s your name boy?” He asked. His tone was warm and Tim didn’t know what to do with that so he just answered.

“Timothy Drake, sir.” His voice was quieter.

“Well Mister Drake, come along. I will get you a towel and hot chocolate to warm you up.” Tim protested but the shiver running down his back had Alfred speaking immediately. “Nonsense young sir.”

With a small tug Alfred was leading him to the manor. Once they were inside and Tim was wrapped in a blanket with hot chocolate Alfred spoke again.

“My dear, I’ve seem to have forgotten my manners. I am Alfred Pennyworth, it is a pleasure meeting you Tim.” Tim looked up with wide eyes and wondered why he’s even there.

“Thank you for the hot chocolate Mister Pennyworth.” The kitchen door was opened and Bruce’s eyebrows went high up on his forehead. Everything was quiet for a moment. Tim wondered what was going to happen next. Was he going to be sent back home? Would Alfred walk him there? Would he leave alone? So Tim spoke again and he kept his voice low because he didn’t really know what to say other than, “Hello Mister Wayne, I’m Tim.”

“Hello Tim… Alfred?”

“Timothy Drake, the neighbor’s boy, Master Bruce.” Alfred promptly answered. Tim didn’t look up at Bruce afraid of what he’d find on his face. He tightened his grip on the cup and made himself smaller. He wanted to disappear.

“I should go now.” Tim sat down the cup and unwrapped himself from the blanket Alfred had given him. A hand was on his shoulder the moment he jumped from the chair and his feet touched the ground. Bruce Wayne was a giant and his hand was too big for his shoulder. Even though Bruce was kneeling in front of him Tim had to crane his neck all the way back to be able to see the man’s face. Tim just wanted to go home for once. He didn’t even know how long he’d been gone.

Bruce’s face was distorted by a warm smile and a look that made Tim uncomfortable. He looked at Tim like there was something wrong with him, which there wasn’t thank you very much.

“Mind if I ask what happened before you go?” Bruce asked.

“I was playing in the garden Mister Wayne,” Tim started and he saw Bruce’s eyes go to the window. It was pretty cold outside and Tim only had a sweater. “And I saw a bird close to the pond so I went to take a picture with my camera…”

Tim’s hands go to where his camera usually hung and his eyes become impossibly wider with the realization that his camera wasn’t on him. He looked up at the counter and climbed back onto his chair to see if it was resting there.

“My camera!” Climbing back down, he ran toward the door. Tim almost forgot he hadn’t actually had his camera with him and he’d only wanted to get out before the questions turned serious. Tim was too surprised to be relieved when his nanny appeared by the pond before Bruce or Alfred had the time to catch up with him.

“Timothy what are you doing over there? Come, you have to get ready for tonight.” It was apathetic. Tim was whisked away into the house and Bruce and Alfred didn’t even get a word in.

It’s the day after next when Tim’s parents are already gone and Tim, similar to the day Jason Todd almost died, woke up to the news of Barbara Gordon being hospitalized. _Commissioner Jim Gordon’s Daughter Hospitalized by Joker_ was the very first thing Tim saw that morning.

The bus was empty that day, unlike the day Jason Todd almost died. It was cloudy. The smog was covering anything that could look like a sunny day, the rain was threatening to flood the streets, it was like any other day in Gotham. Yet it could very well be the day Gotham loses one of her heroes.

Tim jumped out of the bus just before it started moving again. He grabbed a single flower and paid before crossing the street. The looming imminence of the hospital sent shivers down Tim’s spine, this was where people came to get better but it was also where they came to die and you could never really know which one would be happening to you. Tim frowned and entered the building.

Not a nurse questions him when he asks for Barbara Gordon’s room.

Like everything in the hospital, the room was an off white that was just the right shade of unsettling. The room was plastered with get well card and flowers and balloons but none of that helped just how dark the whole situation was. Tim sets his single flower in a vase filled to the brim with white hyacinths.

“Who are you?” Tim turned around wide-eyed and stared at Barbara.  

“My parents are friends of your dad.” Tim lied. Barbara’s eyes narrowed. “They aren’t in the country so I came instead.”

Tim wasn’t finished telling the truth before the medication took Barbara back under.

The whisper of _Barbara_ joined _Jason_ in the back of his head. Tim doesn’t go out that night, he was afraid of the Batman he’d find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The flower Tim gives Babs is a daisy because one of it's meanings is 'I'll never tell' ;)


	2. Only Crabs Are Immortal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim is stuck in anger and confusion but nothing is worse than silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I did a very good job :/ I was listening to a lot of rock and metal to get into the right mood, which was also shit at the moment. Excuses, excuses, I might take even longer to update after next week because I start school. Edited by myself so if there's anything I missed feel free to tell me. Enjoy :)

Tim was thirteen and the whisper of _Barbara_ and _Jason_ never left the back of his head. He’d watched Jason swing across the city, better just months after his incident but he wasn’t invincible anymore. Every hit would hurt Tim. Any faltering would make him tense. He missed the shadow of Barbara fighting next to Bruce, she was Icarus fallen. She was restrained by her wheelchair. No, she wasn’t Icarus, she was saved. In a way. Barbara, if anything, was flying higher than Icarus could have ever imagined.

Timothy Jackson Drake was thirteen when he had to read about his mother’s death in the paper. It had been a morning like any other, the nanny had stopped preparing breakfast the moment he could reach the stove, and no garish red cushion was needed for him to reach the table. It wasn’t a call from the hospital, from a relative, or from the police, it wasn’t a call at all. It was a headline in the paper, _Janet Drake Dies in Airplane Crash; Jack Drake Comatose._

At first Tim thought it was a joke. Surely, someone would see fit to tell the Drake’s _son_ that they’d been in a plane crash. He checked his cell phone and then he checked the landline for any missing calls, none. He called his mother’s phone, no answer. He called his father’s it rang for a minute, two. He tried five times to no avail and so he walked to the nearest bus stop and he went to a hospital, he didn’t know which one his father was in. He didn’t care. He would go to every hospital in Gotham and then every hospital in the country, and every hospital in the world if he had to.

He was lucky. He was _lucky_ to find the hospital his father was in _._ He made himself noticed; he wanted the world to know that the perfect child of Jack and Janet Drake was hurting and furious.

“I want to know.” Tim yelled at the nurse when she refused to tell him his _own father’s room._ “How dare you, how _dare you?_ I AM HIS SON. Let me see my father.”

They tried to calm him down, he thrashed and hit and threw whatever he could.

“Calm down son.”

“No, I am _not_ calming down. I am _not_ calming down, because how _dare you_ not think their son would like a damn phone call? I figured out my mother was dead through a _newspaper_. Not you, not _anyone_ bothered to think that their son _wanted to know something like this?_ My Mother is, my mother is… _why didn’t you call me?_ Why can’t I see my dad? Why won’t you let me see my dad?”

It was silent. That damned silence was back and it laughed at him as everyone stared and whispered. He didn’t fight anymore when they grabbed him. He couldn’t because all he wanted was to see his father, see that he was alive. He wanted _so much_ but he knew he wouldn’t get _a thing_.

“Why won’t you let me see my dad?” He looked up at the man holding him, a security guard with pity in his eyes. Tim couldn’t be bothered. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

He couldn’t look at anyone but the security guard. He didn’t need to, he could hear the whispers.

“ _Nobody told him? That poor boy._ ” Tim wanted the silence back. He wanted the whispers to go away. He vaguely registered that he was being pulled along and he couldn’t care because his face was wet and his throat was sore and all he wanted to do was yell some more. The silence was welcome once again and it ran circles around him and drowned out the words of people talking at him…

 

Barbara Gordon stared at her screens and stared in disbelief at what she was seeing. _Nobody Informs Timothy Jackson Drake About Mother’s Death, Police Say it was Negligence._ Rage was a feeling she was friends with, and right then it was the only one that mattered. She was in the hospital before she could even think it through. She was given the room number easily. The nurses had looked guilty at the mention of the boy.

Barbara almost hadn’t seen him there. If it hadn’t been for the tray catching her eye she would have left thinking he was elsewhere. Guilt bubbled up in her stomach. Timothy was curled up in the chair, staring at his comatose father. There was no light in his eyes, no will to do anything but stare. The tray was beside him full with hospital food that was left untouched, for how long Barbara didn’t want to know. 

“What are you doing here?” His eyes were never torn from his father. His voice was devoid of any real emotion. Barbara wanted to say she was sorry for his loss but it felt inadequate.

“How often did they leave you alone?” Tim turned to look at her, his face blank and his shoulders slumped. He was staring at her but he didn’t see her. She had no way of reading him and Barbara felt stupid, it was a stupid question to ask a boy that was grieving his parents.

 

Tim didn’t like the look on her face. He didn’t like the pity or the steel behind her carefully crafted mask. Her tone was the same, there was an unsaid I’m sorry trying to cover the anger and righteousness she probably felt.

“There was always a nanny.” Tim lied. He looked away from Barbara and watched his father. Air was being pumped into his lungs making it look like he was actually breathing of his own accord. Tim hated it, he hated everything. He hated Barbara, he hated Jason, he hated Bruce, _he hated his parents._ There was so much hate and so much silence and too many whispers of _Mom, Dad, Jason, Barbara, invincible_. Everyone he’d thought immortal had proven their mortality in ways that spared Tim nothing.

“That never stayed before the first week ended.” Barbara stopped hiding the steel of her tone. There was acidity somewhere in there and Tim wanted to laugh. Of course someone would only notice his loneliness once he had nothing left in him.

Everyone was too daring for Tim’s taste. How _dare they_ not tell him? How _dare_ she be this angry at his parents? How _dare_ she act like he was just another victim she had to save? How _dare_ they all, when all Tim wanted was silence and to be alone?

“They never knew.”

“They should have.” Barbara accused his parent’s once more. She wheeled herself closer to Tim, attempted to make a connection. Tim used everything his mother taught him then. He sat up straight and tilted his chin just the right amount to look down at Barbara. He opened his mouth and its acid that spilled.

 “It wasn’t their fault.” His tone was too cynical for a thirteen year old boy. Tim knew it had worked when Barbara’s hand fell into her lap instead. This silence wasn’t like the other. This one was angry and sad and determined. Barbara’s jaw was set and she stared Tim down. The whisper of _Barbara_ rose into a sensation that overwhelmed the others and the silence. It was so loud Tim’s ears rang and his body pulsated with the sound. How could he have ever thought this woman was Icarus when clearly she was Athena?

“It wasn’t your fault either.” She said. Stubbornness was a key trait in a bat and Barbara was a bat through and through. Tim had no doubt left in him that Barbara was always the girl he thought she was. Everything he had admired from afar was now yelling at him as if it had always been doing it. She lifted her hand again and no matter how dirty the look Tim gave her she placed it on his shoulder.

It was nothing like Bruce’s hand. It was slender and small but just as calloused from years of fighting crime, of not being afraid to land fist first. It was warm and steady. It felt familiar, like it belonged there and Tim found himself relaxing in the feeling of something belonging. The silence was always morphing and never really wanted but always present. It had gone from taunting him to angering him to making him feel like he was home. He didn’t like it.

Barbara’s eyes were greener then he thought and her smile was sadder than he hoped. It unsettled him but not enough to make him want to do anything about it. He turned back to look at his father, the moment broke with his gaze. There was nothing special left in the room even though Barbara’s hand stayed put and so did her gaze.

He could feel it tearing piece after piece of him as he watched his father’s chest rise and fall. His hand reached out to hold on to his father’s. The hand was cold and stiff, as if there had never been movement. Tim closed his eyes and imagined his father’s warm voice laughing at something his mother said. Her tone sharp and dry and never meaning to actually be funny but she was so blunt in her judgement that people couldn’t help but laugh. His father always sounding smart and telling him about their travels until he was sidetracked by something else in some place they’ve never been and like that they were gone.

His shoulder felt the cold air of abandonment as Barbara’s hand slipped away from him and into her lap. He looked at her, how her red hair shined against the ugly fluorescence of the hospital room. It never quite lost the eeriness no matter how many flowers were managed to be packed in. He would get used to it though because he would be here for a long time, until his father woke and then they would go home together.

It was a fleeting dream but it was the only thing he liked right then. Barbara pulled away with words that probably would have been comforting had Tim been listening. Her every move was categorized with caution and abandonment, each one pulling her farther away from him. With a blink there was a click of a door locking him in with whatever promise she had made.

Tim was alone and there was silence. It sang of its freedom taunting him even more now that it lost whatever feeling of home it had when Barbara was there. It surrounded him and suffocated him until he felt he should be the one with the breathing apparatus and not his father. Tim didn’t move even though his lungs begged him for fresh air and his ears asked for something other than silence.

It could have been hours or days since Barbara left. He couldn’t be sure the room was stupidly bright constantly. The nurses had tried getting him out of the room at one point but his persuasive impression of a rock convinced them otherwise. Tim tried sleeping once in his time in that room but the silence was too loud for him. It spoke of cruel and improbable thoughts. It was interrupted by the nurses that came and went checking on his father’s vitals and apart from that nothing.

“You can’t stay in here for the rest of your life Timothy.” Barbara’s voice was loud. Louder than the beeping noise of his father’s heart monitor. She was both welcome and unwelcome. Tim couldn’t decide which feeling was more overwhelming just like he could decide on why she was even there. Tim didn’t know how long it had been since he heard Barbara talk, how long since he had felt her presence.

“Have a feeling you wouldn’t let me if I tried.” Tim doesn’t mumble, his mother taught him not to, but he was very close to doing so. Barbara raised an eyebrow at him and stared at his father. Her face betrayed nothing of what she was thinking. Tim couldn’t help but think she came better prepared today. She still irradiated that sense of purpose, she always would, but now she seemed calmer. There was no steel in her voice and her eyes shined with something else, like she was about to tell a joke or play a prank. It made Tim feel calm, a little less angry at the world.

“Always trust your gut Timothy.”

“It’s Tim.”


	3. Satisfactory Intimidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Tim wondered what it felt like to have good luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm starting school tomorrow! A college freshman, wish me luck! as always, any mistakes don't be afraid to tell me. Enjoy!

The word isolation is defined as being _an act or instance of isolating_ but seeing as this was a horrible definition Tim was found looking at the word solitude.

Solitude which meant _the state of being or living alone: seclusion; absence of human activity._ Tim found it fitting. Even started with an ‘s’ like everything else Tim hated. Solitude, silence, the word _sabbulonarium_   _…_ The thing was Tim didn’t know anything _other_ than solitude.

Tim was allowed to stay in his father’s hospital room for three days before a social worker showed up. Unlike the nurses the woman refused to leave without Tim at her side. She said words of comfort Tim didn’t listen to. They were all the same, words that were never meant. He was just a case file to them, a thing to be forgotten after all the papers were signed and filed in alphabetical order. She wore a smile like she did her coat. Tim, if he was anything, was annoyed.

He allowed her to sweep him off to be forgotten between other children of misfortune. The home was old and falling apart in the slums of Gotham. The entrance would have been grand sometime in the 1920s but now it was just a ghost of everything it used to be.

“I’m sorry Timothy, I’m sure you’re not used to these kind of arrangements.” The Nuns that ran the place had told him. They were kind but old, just like the building they were in. The stairs creaked with weight that wasn’t his and dry wall was crumbling with each step.

“It’s ok ma’am. I will make do.” The snickering behind him should have been his first warning. Tim is lead to a room that looked like the hall in many ways. It was blue where the dry wall was still in place, where it wasn’t it was red. The brick looked older than any of the nuns and Tim wondered when the last time an inspector visited the home.

He was placed in a room with two boys, a red head much younger than the rest and a taller one. They both looked underfed and skittish, as if they were waiting for a ball to drop. Tim felt his eyes narrow just a bit before going to the bed that looked unused.

“Look it this Jason, new meat!” Bulky was the only word Tim’s mind would supply that wasn’t already there. _Jason_ rang loudly in the back of his head, awakened by the mention of another with that name. _Jason_ brought _Barbara_ along with him and the feeling of emptiness grew. They were the names filling him, giving him something other than the sense of dread. When they were in the forefront of his mind they left nothing everywhere else.

“What’s your name bone sack?” This Jason wasn’t his Jason. This one had brown eyes and hair, his freckles weren’t quite right and his skin wasn’t dark enough. This Jason didn’t look invincible or capable of inspiring awe with anything other than his fists.

“Jackson.” Tim didn’t quite lie.

“Here’s how things work ‘round here _Jack-ass,_ I make the rules and you follow them. If ya don’t, well that’s goin’ t’ be a problem.” The bulky one talked as if he had no bite. Tim narrowed his eyes again. Some of the boys shrunk as he stood straighter, tilted his head just the right amount, and the sneer adorning his face… never truer. He understood now why his mother looked like that all the time. The satisfaction of seeing half of the boy’s friend’s step back almost broke his concentration.   The boy, the bulky one, was too stupid to be afraid. Too stupid or too used to the look Tim was giving him. His friend Jason had stood back, eyes just as narrowed as Tim’s.

“Like what?” Tim asked. The fist connected with his eye. Tim would be lying if said he hadn’t expected the punch. The pain went through him as if he was being electrocuted. He’d always wondered what it was like to get hit like that. He tripped on his feet and landed face first on the ground, covered in dust and bits of dry wall and mud. Tim had felt his lip slam into the ground, his teeth dug into the soft flesh sending even more pain through him.

The dumb one was laughing but Jason had his eyebrows raised in quiet amusement. As if he thought Tim was just hiding behind the façade of a helpless little boy. This Jason _noticed._ He didn’t overlook Tim like the others had. He saw him, maybe for what he was or what he could be, but he _saw Tim._ He didn’t like the thrill of anticipation. Tim was _afraid_ , not of the one with the fast fists and ugly smirk but of the one with the freckles that weren’t quite right and the knowing brown eyes.

 

Barbara hadn’t thought it possible for the lady to be any slower until now. She has been at the seminar for three hours and the speaker has said the same thing for the past _two_. The thought of just leaving and giving up had crossed her mind multiple times, especially with the Doll Maker out and about. She could be sniffing out clues so that the birds of prey could get him before Bruce did. Instead she’s sitting there with forty other people side eying her and ignoring the speaker just as much as she was.

It was like she was back in high school and the teacher didn’t know what they were talking about. So they just repeated the same piece of information like it was an essay nobody wanted to write. Deciding to become a foster parent wasn’t all that well thought out, she admitted as much. When she’d seen that boy, so alone, it hadn’t sat right with her.  

What would she even do with the boy? Barbara could barely take care of herself and she spent most of her time being Oracle. How could she take that boy in? She shook her head. That boy, there had been something in his eyes, something that made her sad. It felt so familiar, so permanent and like nothing a boy his age should be carrying around.

His blue eyes had seemed so knowing the first time she saw him. It had been so weird because even under so many drugs she could still remember how steady his blue gaze had been. The flower too, something in her had led her to taking it out of that vase and keeping it. Like it was a promise of something she couldn’t understand… yet.

Barbara was going to figure this kid out. He shouldn’t be hard to decode, he was a kid after all.  A shiver went down her spine as she imagined the boy’s face. She’d stopped listening to the speaker a long time ago, a shame really. She’d been prepared to take notes and everything, now she was just sketching things out. She was sketching the boy, Tim.

Doubt settled into her stomach again. What if this was a mistake? What if Tim didn’t even like her? She wanted to laugh then. If she were him, she wouldn’t have cared. Barbara has seen where Tim is being held at the moment. The place wasn’t, couldn’t be, safe for any of the kids there. Tim was a special kid and he _definitely_ wasn’t safe there. Not with older, crueler kids, more exposed to the horrible wonders of Gotham. Tim was old money; he couldn’t possibly know what was in store for a kid like him in a place like that. Like that the doubt was gone. Barbara would burn the bridges as she went.

That didn’t mean she wanted to be there. It was just her luck to get stuck with the most boring people in Gotham learning about the foster system and how to take care of kids. She should have just manipulated the system, it would have been faster and easier than whatever this was. Less people involved too.

“Any questions?” Barbara looked around with a slight smirk. She supposed there where a lot of questions, none actually having to do with whatever the speaker had been talking about. They’re dismissed and asked to come in again in a week. Barbara supposed she should get started with making paperwork flow. The sooner she was done with this and Tim was with her the better.

 _“My parents are friends of your father’s…”_ Her smirk grew into a smile. She knew exactly how she was going to make it work.

 

Tim was out on the streets. Turned out the way the orphanage ran, it wasn’t what he had hoped. The nuns were just a front for what happened behind the scenes. Tim hadn’t had a good meal in a week.

Luck wasn’t his, it never has been.

He passed a business man that was too busy on the phone to notice a thin prying hand in his pocket, he opened it hoping to find something other than credit cards. It was a nice wallet and Tim had almost felt bad for the man but then Tim turned to find him leering at a young girl. He didn’t feel bad anymore. He took out the fives and left anything higher than that. They never missed any bill lower than twenty.

He watched from a corner of the room as other kids cowered under Billy’s bulk. His eyes narrowed as Billy shook Collin, Tim didn’t like it. Colin was at least five years old and Billy was sixteen. There was _nothing_ fair in that exchange.

“You gonna try somethin’ _Jackie?_ ” Tim’s jaw clenched and he didn’t spare the not-Jason a glance.

“Not unless you call me _Jackie_ again.” not-Jason laughed. He had long ago established that Tim was hiding something. He wanted to figure out what but Tim knew better than to tell these goons-to-be anything. His Jason had lived in places like this and had survived, Tim could do the same.

Billy hovered over Tim, his blatant dislike for Tim obvious in the amount of food he’d been getting that past week. The amount Tim was bringing back was enough to feed him and half the orphanage. Billy kept most of it for himself.

“You hit the jackpot kid?” Billy sneered down at Tim. He acted like Tim staring back at him didn’t bother him.

“Who’s in charge here Billy? Can’t be you, you’re too damn stupid.” Tim couldn’t handle staying quiet anymore. He was always quiet, when his parents left, when Jason almost died, Barbara, he wasn’t going to stay quiet anymore. If that resulted in injury, Tim didn’t quite care either. If he was going to be there, he sure wasn’t going to be dealing with the middle man. Tim, by now, is very familiar with both the floor and the wall. Today he was greeting the wall as Billy slammed him into it.

“Shut the fuck up midget. N’ give me the damn money.” Tim kept staring. He was going to be nursing a headache either way.

“Not till you tell me who you work for Billy. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’d like to know.” He was slammed into the wall again. Given he doesn’t have a black eye yet, today was a lucky day. Not-Jason rested his side against the wall. He smiled at Tim, it was dangerous.

“Tell ‘im Billy, smart kid like him. He ain’t gonna do nothin’” A smiling Billy was a Billy nobody wanted to see. Not-Jason knew more than he let on. Tim was starting to appreciate him more with each day that passed by. Billy leaned against the wall and lifted Tim up to him so he could whisper in his ear.

“ _Black Mask._ Now gimme your damn share.” Tim gave him two wallets. He was let go and his butt slammed onto the floor. He narrowed his eyes at Billy and stood up. Tim didn’t care who gave orders, he was going to find a way to stop it. Those kids didn’t deserve what they were getting. The condition the orphanage was in plus the amount of food every kid was given depending on how much money was brought in… The orphanage was supposed to be a safe haven for all of them. Tim just wished he would have been homeless. It was certainly a possibility but something stopped him from leaving.

It could have been the look Barbara gave him that day in the hospital. It could’ve been the look Colin gave him the moment he entered the room, like he was brave and strong and maybe a bit stupid for standing up to the strongest kid on the block. Billy might not be calling the actual shots but he walked around the place like he was. The kids here needed a little bit of hope after all the wrongs they’ve had to go through. Relinquishing the hold Black Mask had on the place might actually do the trick.

Tim would do it for Colin. The boy unknowingly didn’t let the silence or the whispers get to Tim. He filled the silence with his tentative optimism and recounting what little happiness he could remember. He would stay and make things right for the boy. If only just for him.

After all, the snickering behind him really should have been his first warning.

 


	4. Oopsie Daisy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barbara just wanted to know Tim wouldn't get himself killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to feel about this one. Anyway, only a couple more before I introduce Jason's narrative which I'm very excited about. Sorry it took so long to update, I've been in an awful writing mood. If there are any mistakes don't be afraid to tell me. Enjoy!

Barbara was one of those people that once they’re in his head he can’t stop thinking about them. Actually she’s in his head more often than not, lingering in the background. It’s never in _that_ kind of way, Barbara was pretty but Tim didn’t like thinking of _that._ It was always… innocent, always thoughts of her kicking ass even in a wheelchair. She was his Athena, a goddess that never deigned to appear unless asked to. The thing was Tim _hadn’t_ asked, and yet there she was.

Tim had been heading out, going to map out the docks. He’d been there multiple times but it had always been dark and he could barely see anything other than the aftermath that was Batman and Robin out to fight crime. The plan changed when he saw Barbara and she saw him. The smile on her face shouldn’t be for him.

“Good news Timothy!” One of the nuns said. What had sounded kind to him his first day now, after a month of being there, sounded like poorly disguised patronizing. He hadn’t met this one before. Tim was a bit surprised that she even knew his name. He stared at the nun, not really tilting his head enough to actually get a good look but enough to still see Barbara raising a curious eyebrow.

“I was wondering Tim, if you’d like to home with me.” Tim turned his stare to her. Why would she want him? Tim wasn’t special at all. Had she found out what was happening? Out of all the kids there, why him? Tim had many questions and he had a feeling he wouldn’t get any real answers. What if she’d found out about the pictures?

Tim still had business here in the orphanage. He still had to help the rest. He would be able to plan and execute without someone looking over his shoulder the whole time. Barbara could get curious but so could the nuns. He doubted that if he explained everything to them that he would survive.

“I… really?” Tim let his voice go just the right kind of breathless and excited. His eyes went wide and if Barbara could have raised her eyebrows anymore she would have. It was like she didn’t believe him, Tim wouldn’t blame her. Barbara was smarter than all of these people put together.

“Yes, really.” He could feel the phantom weight of his camera pulling at his neck. His fingers twitched, just like they always had before snapping the first picture of the night. Each picture special in its own way and if he’d had his camera with him he was sure that would have been the best. Tim let himself wrap his arms around Barbara’s neck, all for the sake of fooling the nun, because to fool Barbara he should have done better.

He’d have to map out the docks another day.

Tim hadn’t thought accepting Barbara’s offer through enough. He was standing in a living room that was considerably open, only hosting a couch and a coffee table beside it in a way that wouldn’t affect Barbara’s mobility. Tim wondered how often she had visitors. If she had them at all except for the occasional hero. He couldn't imagine they stayed for too long. 

She lead him through the living room into an equally open kitchen. It looked like it wasn’t ever in use. The fridge was sparsely stocked and there were takeout boxes in the trash. To think this was the _clock tower._ He wondered where her Oracle set up was, above or below. What kind of computers did she have? What was her security like? _Could she hack into the pentagon?_ He wanted to ask her all those things and more.

Barbara leads him over to the elevator again and she turns to look at him.

“The top floor of the building is structurally unsound. So don’t go up there unless it’s an emergency.” Barbara said. She said structurally unsound and Tim said Oracle’s own personal bat-cave. Would she ever tell him?

 

The library was a place he often visited when he was left alone. He walked in the familiar smell of old and new and fresh and everything in between hit him. It overwhelmed his whole body, it had been such a long time since he stepped foot into the place. The majestic arcs and chandelier made the library look more like a castle than a library.

The young librarian smiled at him in recognition. She drifted up to him and they met in the middle. Her perfume smelt like honey today. Her hair was shorter and she looked ready to skip around the library singing at birds. Tim was confused until she waved at him as she passed by. A man, who didn’t look as happy as she did, was waiting for her in the entrance. Tim felt weird; of course no one would notice he hasn’t been there in a little more than a month.

Tim huffed and continued heading towards the front desk. The older librarian was scanning books and organizing. He, unlike his coworker, didn’t look as happy or well dressed. His glasses slid down his face constantly and his jacket was ill-fitting. He seemed to be muttering about a woman named Roseanna and how she would kill him one day. Tim felt inclined to be more amused than annoyed with the man ignoring him.

“Mr. Alberts?” Tim said loud, firm. A tone he’d heard Barbara use on Dick once, when they’d gone close enough for him to hear them. A tone learned from Alfred, he was sure of it since Alfred also used it on him. That time so many years ago when he’d pretended to have lost his camera in a pond.

“How can I help you Tim?” He seemed surprised and ashamed. Feelings Tim had felt that day, the same ones he could only guess Dick had felt when Barbara used it on him.

“Can I see the maps and blue prints of the Docks?” Tim hoped he sounded innocent enough for Mr. Alberts to not get suspicious. It was the beginning of August after all. Tim didn’t start school until September. It was his luck that Alberts was too distracted by thoughts of Roseanna to actually think about why.

“Of course Tim, right this way.” Or maybe he was just used to Tim’s odd requests. One time Tim had asked him for all the books that mentioned the Chupacabra with no good explanation as to why a nine year old wanted so many books. He hadn’t even questioned the almost tantrum Tim had thrown when Alberts had only brought him kids’ books.

Tim is sure he spent only two minutes looking at the maps when the door is burst open. It’s a thunderous thing that makes Tim jump. As much as he hated the silence it sure knew how to keep him enthralled. And right then, with Barbara looking at him like she was, he much rather be drowning in silence than in that room. With her. Athena scorned was a woman to be feared.

“What are you doing?” She snapped. Tim blinked.

“Reading.” Tim sets the book down gently. Barbara being mad was nothing new. Barbara being _mad at him?_ Now that was a different story. Tim didn’t know what to do, so he just stood there looking at her and waiting.

“Reading he says.” She mutters. It makes Tim want to smile but he stopped himself. HE doubted Barbara would appreciate him laughing right then. “For eight hours Tim?”

“Um,” Tim didn’t know how long he’d been there. “What time is it?”

“Closing time.” Alberts supplied. He’s carrying books back to the front desk. “He does it all the time Miss Gordon, nothing to worry about.”

Tim had to get Alberts something as a thank you for backing him up in his times of trouble.

“Just,” Barbara looked like she didn’t appreciate Alberts help as much as he had. Tim crossed his arms and got ready for Barbara to send him back to the orphanage. He wouldn’t be surprised if she did. Would he go back to that horrible place just because he didn’t think of asking? He really liked it with Barbara. “Tell me where you’re going next time, I thought. I thought something happened to you ok?”

Tim blinked.

“OK.”

 

After Barbara almost had a heart attack thinking she’d messed up two days into having a kid, she put tracers in all of his clothes. The moment she’d realized Tim wasn’t even in the apartment anymore was terrifying. She had thought she would never feel that utterly helpless anymore. Her stomach decided to camp up in her throat and her lungs felt ready to shut down. It had taken her over an hour to go over all of the video feed. After half an hour of doing so she’d pulled Canary and Huntress out of whatever they were doing to help her scour the streets for the boy.

Anything could have happened. Barbara was relieved none of it did.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by Tim’s hovering. He’d gone up to her like at any moment he would wake up and not be there anymore, like it was all a dream. It was certainly the most emotion she’s seen him convey in the last few days.

“Can I go to the library?” Tim looked up from his hands with a hopeful look on his face. Barbara almost wanted to laugh.

“Sure, be careful.” They lived in Gotham after all. Barbara didn’t know what to do. Children leaving unannounced wasn’t something she’d expected to encounter with Tim. Then again… She shook her head and thought about something other than that.

She closed her eyes and headed towards the elevator. What was she doing? Fostering a kid. She could barely take care of herself. All she needed was a couple hours of research on the Birds’ newest case to wind down and she’d be fine. She wasn’t going to analyze _that_ sentence.

“What’s crackalackin’ cutie.” She feels the smile coming and looks up at Dick. He’d made himself comfortable in the extra sofa she had up there.

“Not much hot stuff.” Dick raised his eyebrows at her and she knew that he knew.

“Oh,” He said. “Not taking care of any kids? You know, the orphaned kind.”

“He’s not orphaned, his dad is in a coma.”

“As good as.” She knew that. If Jack Drake doesn’t wake up ever it would be, but he could wake up any moment. “Where is the squirt anyway?”

“The library.” When the eyebrow raising tripled she explained. “He’s used to wandering around by himself, dork wonder. Unlike you _his_ parents didn’t take him travelling around the world.”

Dick’s face darkened. Barbara typed away at her computer, accumulating information like a dragon would gold. She would read everything later, once Dick was gone and she finally had a moment of privacy.

“Is that why you took him in?” Dick asked. “Because he’s a neglect case?”

Barbara shook her head. “No, remember that kid I told you about? The one that visited me in the hospital?”

“Yeah?” She watched from the reflection of the screens as Dick connected two and two. They stayed silent for a while. “Well I was hoping I’d catch a glimpse of the boy. Tim, was it?”

“That’s the one.” Barbara rolled her eyes. “Now go do whatever it is you do during the day dork wonder.”

“You know exactly what I do, batchick.” With a kiss on her cheek he was gone. She threw herself into her case, searching deep into the trail of paper work one Ra’s’ shell companies had left.

Her eyes burned and more often than not everything was blurred. That meant it was time for coffee and a change of scenery. If you could call the apartment downstairs that. Barbara looked at her clock, Tim should be back from the library now. It had closed.

Barbara went into the living room to find Tim bent over the kitchen table drooling. She smiled at the sight and went to gently wake him up when she saw the notes under his hand. She frowned at what she could see. It was a layout of the docks, spots were circled in red and blue. Exit routes and vantage points, as if for a recon mission. Barbara could identify them after all the times she’d needed them. Why was he interested in that? Why did he need exit routes for those warehouses? Was that what he’d been doing at the library? What was happening at the docks that she didn’t know about?

There was more to that kid than she’d thought. She placed her hand on his shoulder and pressed, softly whispering his name. He startled and scrambled to hide the map he had.

“Dinner?” She asked. Barbara wasn’t going to mention the schematics but she was going to keep a closer on eye Tim.

“Sure.”


	5. He was One of Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why didn't he feel as exceptional as others seemed to think he was?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When was the last time I updated? Well fret no more, for I am finally here and with starbucks! Any mistakes are welcome to be corrected, tell me what you think and enjoy!

Janet and Jack Drake had been exceptional human beings. Pioneers in the archeological and industrial world, their downfall had been a right tragedy. They were fantastic parents on top of it all and their son, a genius, a prodigy, how couldn’t they be? He was so quiet and polite all the time, an exceptional child for exceptional parents.

So why was it that, as Tim sat there staring at his father, he felt like anything other than exceptional?

The room is barren of flowers. The white had consumed any and all colour that dared be, making everything a dull grey. Tim’s bright red sweater contrasted to the point of it being an eyesore. Without it he would have blended into the off white seamlessly. His father’s machines beeped loudly, the only real sign that the man lived. Tim had been sitting at the bedside for probably two hours, cocooned with his head resting on his forearms, his fingers twitched every once in a while as if to prove that he was real and not a statue.

He wanted to leave but he couldn’t even think about it. His uselessness was eating at him with each minute that passed, yet there he sat unable to move. It was unnerving. The feeling of not being able to do anything for his father made him doubt everything that was ever said about him. How could he be a prodigy if he couldn’t wake his father up?

Tim closed his eyes. He breathed in and held it until the walls of his lungs seemed to be touching and then some. His eyes tighten forcing the splotches of red light to seem dimmer. He heard the door open and sound of wheels and footsteps. He thought it was a nurse walking into check on his father. He opened his eyes.

Barbara came to a stop right beside Tim but Commissioner Gordon stopped at the foot of the bed. Neither of them said anything for a while, letting the silence envelope everything from the white walls to the authoritative stance of Commissioner Gordon. Tim could see now how Barbara was who she was, especially with Commissioner Gordon as a main influence. He radiated everything Barbara did but twenty times over. It was overwhelming.

Tim bit his lip and looked back at his father. He whispered a goodbye before standing up. He forced himself to return Barbara’s smile.

“Hello Commissioner Gordon.” Gordon gave him a smile; despite the scene they painted it seemed appropriate. The corners of his blood shot eyes wrinkled giving away his age. They shined with the same mischievousness that Barbara’s did.

“Hello Tim.” They’d met once before, when Tim had gone for the docks and Gordon had spotted him and recognized him. Tim was lost, he’d told him, took the wrong stop when heading to the park to take some pictures. The commissioner had taken him back, stayed with him for an hour and watched as Tim concentrated on the trash filled pond. “Haven’t gotten _lost_ again have you?”

“No, sir.” Tim knew Barbara was piecing it together, she was Athena after all. A goddess of knowledge, of war, of strategy. He supposed that he’d gotten away with as much as he had because she wanted to see how far he would go. Living with her… she _had_ to know _something._

The outside of the hospital was dim compared to the inside but there was something a lot more lively about it despite the gray contrast, like there wasn’t twice the amount of death _outside_ the hospital than inside, especially in Gotham. Tim shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched a woman cry for her daughter and paramedics pulled her away so they could work. A business man bumped into him and never noticed until the commissioner called him out angrily before Barbara could. The pain in his butt was annoying and didn’t deserve the amount of attention it was getting.

“Watch where you’re going _pal_.”

“It’s ok Mr. Gordon at least we’re outside the hospital.” Tim joked. His smile was small, barely even creasing his face, barely genuine. “Do you think they’d give me a room close to my dad?”

Tim stood up and kind of enjoyed the shocked expression on both of the Gordon’s faces.

“Was that a joke Tim?” There was a twitch to Barbara’s mouth, as if she didn’t want to laugh.

“Too soon?” Tim asked. He watched as Barbara’s twitch turned into a full blown smile. The crinkles at the corners of her eyes made her look younger and less tired. They hid the dark bags she tried to hide better than the make-up. She gives a small huff and shakes her head. Tim’s smile grew, he couldn’t help it. The idea of making _Barbara_  laugh made him feel weird. His parents never laughed at jokes he made, not that he had the chance to make many.

They continue walking and Tim listened to Barbara and the Commissioner talked and laugh as they caught up. Tim wondered how often they spoke to each other, what they would talk about if he wasn’t in hearing range. Did Barbara tell him about her nightly activities, now that she was paralyzed from the waist down? If not did Commissioner Gordon know anyway?

“So Tim, have you chosen what school you want to go to in September?” Mr. Gordon asked. Tim blinked at Mr. Gordon and the turned his head to blink at Barbara. She looked like she forgot to turn off the stove as she stared at her dad.

“Uhm, public school?” Tim said shyly.

“You don’t want to go back to Brentwood?” Barbara asked. She raised an eyebrow at him and Tim couldn’t think it possible that she didn’t know.

“I, uh,” Tim smiled again hoping to soften the blow. “I can’t. I was expelled. Because I… blackmailed? The principal?”

Tim watched as Barbara and her father shared a look. Tim kind of wanted to laugh at their faces, it was like they wanted to be surprised and disappointed but really they were both trying hard not to smile and let Tim think it was ok to blackmail authorities in the future. If the need arose Tim would do it again and he had that feeling that he always had with Barbara that she _knew_ that would be the case.

“Classes don’t start until September, you’ll have plenty of time to choose. We could even go look at Gotham Academy and the likes… if you want to?” Barbara smiled. Tim gave her a small smile in response. _Gotham Academy_ … the haunted castle of haunted castles, it gave Tim the chills just thinking about it. It offered boarding so Tim would have ended up there sooner or later, another school and another year of being seen as the weird scrawny kid whose parents didn’t like him enough to take him with them. Tim just wished he didn’t have to deal with anyone his age anymore.

Barbara hadn’t even thought about school. The way Tim talked and held himself sometimes Barbara forgot she was talking with a kid instead of an adult. The kid was special, some kind of fire burned in him. It was the thing that initiated whatever plan he had up his sleeve. He was one of _them_ , she knew it after seeing the plans. After figuring out the specific buildings he was looking at and _who_ owned them. He figured things out that Barbara wouldn’t have, not at his age not without proper training. Barbara was considered a _genius_ at any age.

If he’s doing this now… has he done it _before?_ She couldn’t find anything on Tim that would tell her anything concrete. He spent his whole life by himself, without anyone to take care of him, to _stop_ him. Not a single encounter with Batman has ever been recorded, there were _thousands_ of situations where children and adults alike thought they were cut out for the business. Tim _might_ just be.

She looked over at her father with a worried glance. What had she gotten herself into? Tim had gone off to climb onto a tree and Barbara felt like she would regain leg movement every time Tim slipped or adjust his grip halfway through pulling himself up.

“Would you relax?” Her father told her. “He isn’t going to fall and if he does I’ll catch him.”

That didn’t make her feel as good as he probably intended. He gave her a look and she sighed.

“Ok. Ok, I’ll have some faith in you… old man.” She smiles at the look on her father’s face. “He didn’t seem so happy about the whole school thing.”

“What kid does? I say worry when he’s jumping in joy for school, then you’re doing something wrong.” Her dad grunted out. She rolled her eyes at him and watched as Tim got to the top of the tree. It was at least two stories high. Tim waved down at Barbara and grabbed his camera from around his neck. He pointed it down at them once and then turned. From where Barbara was she could see the very top of Wayne Enterprises; she only supposed that Tim could see more of it from up there. It struck wonders with all the tourists. Gotham’s Biggest Hope.

Barbara sighed and rested her forehead in her hand. Dick has been standing behind her for five minutes now and she doesn’t want to talk right now. Black Mask has too many paper trails and she doesn’t which one will take her to whatever Tim was looking into. She wondered if keeping this to herself was a good idea. What had Tim gotten into?

“What’s got you all stressed out sweet cheeks?” Barbara rolled her eyes at the nickname and turned around to look at Dick.

“For the record I knew you were standing there for the past five minutes, creep.” Dick laughed.

“Come on, you know you love it when I stand ominously behind you for long periods of time.” That merited another eye roll. “So what’s got them panties in a twist?”

“Your use of grammar for one.” Barbara sighed. That got her an eye roll from Dick. “And Black Mask.”

She refrained from telling Dick about how Tim was also a part of it. She wasn’t going to tell, at least not yet. Dick would freak out, start acting like Bruce. He would try to scare Tim into stopping. Barbara didn’t think Tim could be stopped. She would have done it by now if she thought so. She would.

“So where is Tim?”

“My dad took him to the park or the precinct.” Dick raised an eyebrow.

“Ride along with gramps?” Barbara snorted. She continued to type on her computers looking into every video feed of the past few months. Black Mask had to have done something that caught Tim’s attention, maybe something to Tim? Did Tim think Black Mask was behind his parents? That could be it that had to be it. He’s misinformed, a talk could get him to stop.

“You know if you actually want to meet him you could visit like a normal person. We do have a front door.” Barbara froze when the name of the orphanage Tim had stayed at showed up. So maybe Tim wasn’t misinformed.


	6. The Battle of the Radishes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What could he even say? Certainly not "hey Babs, so I threw a brick at this guy that had a gun and then hid in a trash can."  
> No, that wasn’t a good answer to any question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I straight up didn't have time to write so I decided to cut out some things from this one and leave it for the next. I'm trying to see if I can wrap this up in three or four more chapters and then continue the arc in a series of one shots because this is a pretty big universe with a lot of twists and I just don't want to elongate this one story.  
> Anywho, y'all know the drill any mistakes don't be afraid to let me know, critiques are welcome.

Jason was, at best, very _fucking confused._ Like, what the fuck Bruce? What the actual fuck? This kid just _punched_ him in the face. Pug faced little…

Jason breathed in, did what the therapist told him to do when he was very, very angry. Thing was, it wasn’t helping. The little brat had that smug look on his face. Jason didn’t even know his name but that little six year old _monster_ had just broken his nose and Jason wasn’t ready for it. It was noon for Pete’s sake, he’d just gotten up. Jason had looked forward to breakfast, hoping it wasn’t waffles. And what does he get? Spilt coffee and a broken nose.

The little thing squeaked on about legacy and hierarchy and some other bullshit. Jason just kept dodging punches as best he could and ran the hell outta dodge when the kid broke out the sword. Who the fuck gives a six year old a sword? Jason climbed the penny and hoped the kid wasn’t strong enough to tip it off balance or smart enough to climb it.

“Coward!” The kid spat.                                                                                                           

“What the fuck ever monkey mug.” Jason spat right back. “Who the fuck are you even?”

It was too early; Jason didn’t want to deal with this. How did the kid even get in? Did Barbara bring him? Was she here; was _this_ the thing she took in? Jason was pretty sure Babs wasn’t there and that Tim Drake was like, two years younger than him. He was also pretty sure that Babs wouldn’t give some six year old a sword.

“I am Damian Al Ghul Wayne.” Well that explained the sword.

 

Tim looked up at the building he’s come to dread more than charity balls. Almost as much as the silence he evaded since Barbara took him in. Now he drowned in noise: of cars, of kids, of keyboards and late night coffee breaks. Not his, never his. He waited for Barbara to finally head for bed, the creak of the door closing, the alarms being set, and finally the lights to turn off. It took him almost a week to learn how to disarm the alarm on his window and then only a day to figure out how to not trip the rest.

Tim wasn’t crazy. Sneaking out his window from that high? Never. Maybe. No, he snuck out the kitchen window, the fire escape was rickety and always a risk but in the end if it ever woke Barbara up she could easily surmise it was a cat making a racket.

Tim considered sneaking in, risking the secrecy of his plans to see Colin. He doubted the boy was there anymore but it wasn’t important, the rest where there and more were to come. Tim stayed in his place. He watched the entrance as it creaked. A single head poked out and not-Jason made his way out, Billy close behind him. Tim waited a couple minutes before following after them. He stayed close to the walls and away from the light. Much like he’d seen Batman do. And if Barbara ever caught him on her cameras his whole plan would go down the drain.

He stopped a couple of feet away from them and hid in an alley entrance.  He nicked a recorder from Barbara’s kitchen drawer. It had been all the way in the back of the drawer so Tim doubted the she missed it. Besides, it wasn’t like Tim wouldn’t put it back once he was done. He was close enough that he was eighty-five percent sure it would pick up most of the conversation not-Jason, Billy, and the messenger were having. Of course 85% wasn’t 100% and that was the real problem here.

“Listen man, sometimes the rest have bad days. Ya can’t just do that t’ us.” Not-Jason argued. Tim clenched his teeth and his fists. “Just, just help us out man, kids that small ain’t gonna get nothing with a rumbling stomach.”

“No can do brat, that’s just the way of the world. Suck it up and man up.” Tim flinched at the sound of a fist connecting with a face. He could hear the scuffle get louder as Billy started throwing punch.

“Leave it bill, he ain’t worth shit.” Tim could hear everything but all he could see was the wall of a building he was sure was filled with squatters. He could imagine though, not-Jason getting up from the ground his dirty jeans even dirtier with the muck on Gotham’s streets. Billy standing back with his hands in his jacket pockets, one hand fisted around a half empty box of cigarettes he nicked from a guy waiting for the bus. His shirt tattered because he got in a fight with the wrong kid, that one had a knife. Anger overtaking him because not-Jason might be smart but he fought with words more than fists, so that hit just _had_ to have hurt. Tim could imagine that split-second decision being obvious on Billy’s face as he jumped the man they were talking to.

He could also imagine the gun being pulled, the safety being clicked off and everything just stilling. Like a calling for the rats to quiet down and for the squatters to listen carefully because there would be blood on the street tonight as well. Like a calling for Tim to do something. He turned off the recorder.

“Agh, the boss won’t care if I kill you two, like there ain’t no other kids.” Tim took in a deep breath and prepared to run but not before grabbed a piece of brick and throwing it as far as he could in the man’s direction. “Son of a- Who the fuck is there?!”

Tim panted as he climbed into the first trash can he encountered.

“Billy go!” was faint in the background. It’s been weeks since the whisper of _Jason_ came to the fore front of his mind. There it was. Repeating itself like a mantra that would protect Tim from doing anything else equally stupid. He was definitely going to have a fun time explaining to Barbara why he smelt like trash. What could he even say? Certainly not _hey Babs, so I threw a brick at this guy that had a gun and then hid in a trash can._ No, that wasn’t a good answer to any question.

His breath was bated and he waited quietly for the man to pass by. The recorder was nestled between his crossed arm and his knees. If anyone asked Tim in these situations the fetal position was the only position. He made a cranny in between two garbage bags and he wasn’t in the mood to be hearing estranged whispers of _Jason_ in the back of his head. Although if Jason wanted to show up _in person_ that would be fantastic. Jason would be able to take this guy out in no time.

“Come out little fucker.”

“You know guys with guns talking to themselves tends to scare the ladies off.” Not Jason, not Jason at all. What was Dick doing here? His city was Blüdhaven.

“The fuck? Get away freak.”

“Aw you break my heart. Now why don’t you leave right now and I won’t take that gun away from you buddy.” Tim bit his tongue to keep from yelling at the sound of a bullet ricocheting off the walls. There’s grunting and the crack of bones and the man yelled and then it was quiet. Tim was sure that if he didn’t let go of his tongue he would bite through it and that was just another thing Tim wouldn’t want to explain to Barbara. Not that explaining any of this wouldn’t get him grounded one way or another. Or… or worse, getting sent back to the orphanage.

“Gee,” that sounded faker than any of the excuses Tim managed to cook up, “I sure hope whoever he was looking for got away safely _and went home_.”

Dick was _so_ telling Barbara. Tim was _so screwed._ Sooner or later, he was _screwed_. He listened carefully for the sound of the creaking fire escape or the sound of a hook being shot and once he did he waited a while longer before climbing out of the trash and shaking off as much of it as he could. He took a step closer to the man that had almost killed Billy and not-Jason. He wrinkled his nose at the sight of the mangled wrist and nose.

“Gross.” Tim muttered. There was a slight shift in the fire escape that reminded Tim that he still wasn’t alone. “Thank you.”

Once Tim climbed through the kitchen window he went to his room and changed into his pajamas before going to clean up his trail of mud and other things. He would have to shower in the morning because Barbara, asleep or not, would hear the running water and go and interrogate Tim. He instantly regretted having professed his intense hate for late night showering in front of her.

He listened to the recording and fist bumped when the whole conversation had recorded pretty well.

Barbara sighed at the sight of Dick pacing in front of her computers.

“Babs,”

“Dick I know.” Barbara admitted. She was hoping not to have this conversation with Dick just yet.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Barbara fought the urge to roll her eyes. Anything above condescending would have Dick rampaging about the security of Gotham and little boys.

“I didn’t know I had to report to you Dick. Do you want them double spaced? MLA format? Or is freeform ok?” She raised an eyebrow and turned to her computers. She read the latest happenings.

“You know what I mean Babs.” Dick sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t think the way I would meet your kid was through alley way trash cans.”

“You know I would have called you if I didn’t already know you were there. I had you working that exact case for a reason.”

“I was babysitting Tim.”

“We know what he knows.” Barbara sang. She starts typing and coordinating the information she was given the night before. “I managed to keep him away from Black Mask’s warehouses by sending you there.”

“He what? I thought you said he was smart.”

“He is. I’m starting to think he’s smarter than your average fourteen year old. Did I tell you he wants to go to public school? He got expelled from the last one, _because he blackmailed his Dean into firing his gym instructor.”_

“You better keep a close eye on him.” Dick sounded impressed and his anger quelled for the time being. Barbara let out a sigh of relief and headed towards the coffee machine. As mad as Dick had been at her he had still made coffee. The man was a godsend, honestly. “If you say he’s so intelligent, don’t you think he wonders where you go all night?”

“As far as he knows I just go to bed really late. He waits for me to go to ‘sleep’ before sneaking out the kitchen window.” Barbara said. She inhaled the rich aroma of good coffee. “I’m quite impressed he figured out the security system, most kids wouldn’t have bothered checking it.”

“You sure know how to pick them Babs.” Barbara sure hoped she wasn’t making a mistake with letting Tim do this. How would she even explain that she knew? Should she even tell him about Oracle? She didn’t even know how long Tim was going to be with her. His father could wake up any day, come knocking on her door demanding his Tim back. If she told him about Oracle and the birds of prey and batman and Nightwing how would he even take it? Would he want to go out there too? _Of course_ , Barbara told herself, _he already was._ In the end she had too many variables but not enough constants. She was going to give Tim closure and hope he gave up after this.

She really hoped Tim aspired for a life away from all of this. All of the sneaking around and chasing clue after clue. Telling him everything would just complicate everything for him. Just look at her, or Dick, or Jason, or Bruce.

Dick sighed interrupting her worrying.

“Well, I should get back to the manor before Alfred commits murder.”

“You’ll just make it easier for him to do it Dickiebird.” Barbara turned to give him a smile and he rolled her eyes.

“Don’t want me to go baby girl?” It was Barbara’s turn to roll her eyes and before she was even done doing so Dick was gone.

Barbara watched as Tim slid around the kitchen in his socks. He’d just arrived from the library, his sweater wrapped around his waist. A baseball cap was left forgotten on the only table that wasn’t already covered in Tupper or papers. One thing Barbara figured out early in the game was that Tim had a peculiar love for anything in between two slices of bread. At times the term bread could be used loosely. Barbara guessed it was a habit developed from not having someone there to cook him meals all the time.

He hummed along to the song on the radio and slathered copious amounts of mayonnaise on four pieces of bread. Tim had been skeletal when he first arrived to the Clock Tower. She’d figured his hunger was a consequence of living in a downtrodden orphanage for a month. After the first two weeks of Tim living with her, she realized Tim was just a pig when it came to food. If she didn’t get him to join a sport once school started the kid might eat himself into cardiac arrest.

He smiled at her when she finally closed the space between her and the little kitchen. Barbara raised an eyebrow when she saw up close just what Tim was making his sandwich out of and decided not to comment.

“How was the library? Anything new and fun and exciting?” Tim rolled his eyes.

“There can only be so much fun and exciting happening in a library.” Barbara’s smile widened. Three weeks ago all she would have gotten was a nod and a small smile. “Mr. Alberts tripped with twenty books in his arms; he made me help him put them away after I laughed. Then he told me about the seventies for a really long time.”

“Oh? And what happened in the seventies?” Barbara put the radishes away while he wasn’t looking and continued to wait for Tim to get his thoughts together. His eyes glazed over for a couple minutes before grunting and looking for the radishes.

“I can’t say I listened to him. I swear…” Tim looked up at Barbara with a suspicious look to his face. Barbara schooled her face into innocence, Tim never fell for it. He huffed and narrowed his eyes even more. “I’m on to you Babs.”

Barbara stops for a moment her mind almost not processing what was just said. Tim looked as surprised as she felt. The moment was gone as soon as it came and Barbara was smiling. Tim turned around either to find the radishes or to hide his smile. Barbara couldn't tell with how fast he turned around.  _Babs._  

“I’m trying to save you Tim.” _Timmy_ , her brain supplied. She’s definitely heard him call himself that and what would the harm be, really? He put last night’s roast beef and the lasagna from two nights ago in the same sandwich. As far as Barbara knew there wasn’t much to be saved. The tiny percentage of his stomach that was left untouched by Tim’s food palette would’ve thanked her but Tim was a smart boy. A smart boy with a really weird and nauseating lack of self-preservation.

It felt like a rock settled in her stomach at the thought, all of Tim’s nightly escapades coming to the forefront of her mind.  The one he had the night before being the heaviest. What had he been thinking? Throwing a brick at a thug with a gun? He was damned lucky she sent Nightwing to trail him or… Barbara wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself if something happened to Tim.

“Babs?” Tim frowned. “Hey, Barbara, are you okay?”

She forced a smile and nodded, not trusting herself to keep calm if she spoke. Tim’s frown deepened and he shook his head. He wasn’t fooled.  He shoved a sandwich her way and she inspected it. Surprisingly enough, Tim had limited himself to one main ingredient for that one. And thankfully, it had no radishes.


	7. We'll Meet You At The Zoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He groaned and one of his hands shot out from his cocoon to slap his phone, either to shut it up or shove it on the floor Tim didn’t know or care. All he wanted was to go back to sleep but apparently, Babs and his phone plotted this when he wasn’t around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gently Screams into the Abyss(TM). Guess who's back, back from the dead? It me. All this time was me not knowing how to things. I had the hardest time getting the words out but I am _determined_ to get this damned story out. I've decided to wrap this up in twelve chapters and then make it into a series so I can expand this universe as I see fit nd not rip my hair out "following" an outline that wasn't designed for a multichapter fic. _what do you mean editing is a thing?_
> 
> TL;DR I had a shitton of writers block and I don't want to be that author with the never ending fic.  
> READ&ENJOY

The steam built up slowly. Swirling around the bathroom and covering every bit of surface it can reach. The water poured in a harsh stream, scalding hot but it didn’t bother him anymore. His forehead and forearms were rested on the wall opposite of the shower head and he let the stream hit the back of his neck rhythmically. The tile was cold in comparison to his skin but that was okay. He liked the contrast and it kept him just close enough to reality, as he lost himself in his mind. 

It was a dangerous place nowadays.

Jason inhaled deeply. The heat and mist made it hard for him to breath. His lungs worked twice as hard to reject the thick humidity as it did to try and take whatever oxygen it could. A sign that maybe he’d been in the shower for too long. He closed his eyes and felt how his arms slowly fell asleep. He clenched his fists tight enough that his knuckles turned white and pulled away from the wall, shifting his feet to turn around and face the stream. His forehead and outer parts of his arms scalded as they were quickly brought to match the rest of his body’s temperature.

With a sad sigh he turned the knobs and the stream was cut. Now he was left to face the cold air on the other side of the shower curtain. He felt as every drop of water rolled down his body or stuck to its place as he reached for his towel. He looked straight ahead or at the wall as he bent down to pat himself dry, not daring to look at himself.

His mirror was covered with the mist. It was close to impossible to even discern his figure in it. He reached slowly to the nape of neck and he didn’t need a mirror to see the scar, similar to all the other ones covering his entire left side. He could feel the bumps and roughness and know that that skin didn’t match the rest. He didn’t need a mirror to know he’d been lucky, that the scars only reached _just_ under his jawline.

He remembered the scarred tissue with a simple brush of his fingers. How his belly had huge thick scars from both the burns and surgery. He didn’t need a mirror to remember. No, all he needed was a touch. Jason clenched at a large extra towel and threw it over the mirror.

There was a knock at the door that made Jason jump. He’d been so lost in his own world he hadn’t heard footsteps.

“Master Jason breakfast is ready, so I suggest you get ready quickly unless you want to be late for your first day at school.” Jason flinched at the silent implication of _again._

“I’ll be ready in a spiffy, Alfie.”

 

Tim wrenched his eyes shut and curled into a tighter ball when his alarm started ringing. He groaned and one of his hands shot out from his cocoon to slap his phone, either to shut it up or shove it on the floor Tim didn’t know or care. All he wanted was to go back to sleep but apparently, Babs and his phone plotted this when he wasn’t around. She opened his door and rolled in like she didn’t even hear the phone slamming into the ground.

“Rise and shine, Timmy. You have a school to attend and people to knock off their feet with your charm,” Barbara sang. Tim bit his lip and rolled onto his side to glare at her. She raised her eyebrows, not bothering to hide her amusement. He grunted and pulled the covers even higher above his head. The only thing left out was the top of his hair.

“Do I have to?” She pulled at the bottom of his covers.

“Yes, and try to be nice to the teachers.”

“Only if they are.” He hid his face in the pillow, muffling his voice. Barbara tugged at his feet until he was half hanging off the bed and half clinging on to the bed post for dear life. Why did school have to start so soon? “Fine, I give up, I’ll get up. _Babs, Babs stop.”_

Tim walked leisurely, a crappy looking cup in his hand and a ratty sweater. He blended in with crowd and watched quietly as everyone moved around him, leaving the smallest perimeter. He looked on as people lived their lives too enwrapped with themselves to notice anyone else. But Tim liked that, that way he could watch as the young mother scolded her son and how the sister stood behind her smugly. The business man on his way to work talked on the phone and looked around warily. Tim could pick his pocket easily, just like he could go and stand behind the mother and convince the girl to follow him. He didn’t. But he could, no one would notice.

He could go stand next to the thug on the corner and pass him the business man’s wallet. It was the only reason he was there, to take what the kids picked. He could _be_ the thug standing on the corner. But he wasn’t, and he wouldn’t be if Barbara had anything to say. He shoved his hand in his pocket and the small girl that bumped into him didn’t get the piece of gum and his cellphone.

The school wasn’t far from the clock tower.  He was early despite all of Barbara’s complaint’s about sleeping in. Not that she could talk. At times it would be well into the afternoon and she would be asleep, mostly because she spent her night’s being the internet’s brave crusader. Sometimes it could be hard to believe that someone like the _Oracle_ would want to keep someone like _Tim_ around. Other times all he could think about was telling her everything he knew. From the Black Mask’s hold on the orphanages to how he knew about Batman and Robin. How he’d known from the beginning.

He watched from under the tree in front of the school how kids slowly started arriving all in various states of disarray. Close to the beginning he saw two very familiar faces walking around the school as if they owned it, as if their next meal didn’t depend on how many business men they robbed or how many stores they broke in to.

If his mother were here, he thought, she would grab him by the shoulders and shake him. She would yell at him, why would he choose _that_ school when he could have gone to the most elite school on this side of the world.

Next to the middle school there was an elementary school. From the tree he could see both school entrances’ well and soon another familiar face made its way. Collin walked with his head down and his shoulders slumped. Nobody looked at the sad boy with an oversized jacket. Sad boy’s where common in Gotham, it made no difference to notice the one.

The bell rang just as he was about to go to Collin. With a small moment of regret Tim took a step back to go to class. He would catch Collin later, after school was over.

The hallways where packed with kids that hated everyone else’s existence. Nobody minded the tiny boy that stuck to the walls as he watched them interact with each other. On the corner, near the stairs Tim could see a big mass leaning over someone around his own height. The smaller boy wearing a pair of khakis and broken glasses, looking like he would rather be anywhere but where he was at the moment. Tim could have sworn he’s seen the boy before, but that didn’t matter.

What did matter was the clenched fist at the side of the taller, sturdier boy with green eyes and a sneer. As Tim passed he decided he wasn’t going to ignore the situation. He wasn’t a part of the crowd, but he was. He was easily lost between all of the bodies rushing to class.

“Hey,” Tim said with a pleasant smile. He leaned next to the taller boy’s arm. The other one turned around relieved for a moment but then hope seemed to fade as he took Tim in. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“Fuck off pipsqueak.” The taller one said. Tim simply continued to smile.

“No, seriously. I thought I saw someone like you at the zoo,” With that Tim frowned.

“Buzz off before I decide to punch your face in instead.” Tim turned to smile at the smaller boy. He nudged his head and it didn’t take much for him to run. He turned around for a moment to mouth a thank you before disappearing into the crowd.

 “I could have sworn…” Tim frowned up at the taller boy once more.  He shoved his hands into his pockets and decided to prolong the moment, leaning against the wall completely. Tim’s frown turned upside down and into a smile faker than the one he’d given during Galas. He snapped his fingers and said, “Oh that’s right, you were the gorilla.”

As the taller boy throws his fist Tim knocked on the door beside them. Big Boy wasn’t _that_ smart after all and had decided to pick on a kid next to a classroom. Tim was going to have a really nice black eye on his day of school. _Jason_ was whispered louder and louder with each second that passed and the teacher ushered them both away and to what presumably was the principal’s office. It was like every time he did something stupid Jason’s name would pop up in his head, stronger and louder than it usually was.

A visit to the principal’s office on the first day of school was Tim’s personal record being broken. Usually, he would wait a day before picking a fight.  Of course half of the time nobody knew or cared to know that it was Tim who threw the first proverbial punch. His scrawniness kept him hidden in the shadows, an unlikely suspect.

They never reached the principal’s office though. As they walked down the empty hallway, footsteps echoing through out, they were halted. Frozen in place at the sound of a shot being fired. It came from far away and for a moment everything was silent. The names _Barbara_  and _Jason_ rang through his head, like a warning that something bad was going to turn into something worse. Day one of school and children were already being held hostage.  The sense of dread filled Tim as he realized where the noise was coming from.

The elementary school next door was a popular target for assholes with guns. _Colin._ Tim turned on his heel only to be stopped by the teacher. He didn’t understand. Tim _needed_ to find Collin. He was just a little boy with no parents, the only person that cared about him was Tim. The boy nobody noticed, how fitting was it that today was the day someone did.

Tim could feel his hands shaking. He needed to slip away. But once he was out what would he do? He was just a boy with no training. He wasn’t robin. Tim _wasn’t_ Robin. _Jason_ was. But Jason was also in school. There was no Nightwing to help Tim get out of the stupid, dangerous situation he put himself in. There had to be _something_ he could do. Another brick he could throw to distract an attacker.

He would have to save himself.

Tim ran. They called him a prodigy. A nice kid. Good. Quiet. He felt stupid, unprepared. What good was his intelligence if he couldn’t help the people he cared about? Tim ran until he reached the gym exit. So the assholes with guns decided they would be overachievers. Two of them guarded the exits, they carried gun longer and bigger than their arms. Tim wondered if they had good aim. He wondered if he was big enough to be the brick this time.

He stood still, watched the goons as they realized he was standing there. Tim did his best to keep his breath steady. He would be even more useless if he started hyperventilating.  He was in that trash can again. The smell of garbage and the feeling of something poking at him overwhelmed him but when he took in a deep breath all he smelt was the stale sweat of a gym.

“Don’t move kid.” One of them yelled. Tim flinched at the gun pointing at him. He wondered… he did a lot of wondering today, didn’t he? No right answer, no solid one. Just speculation of what would happen next, of what would have happened if he were someone else. If he were _Jason,_ or _Barbara,_ or even Dick.

He couldn’t ask those questions. Tim shouldn’t be speculating, he had to get to _Colin._ Tim shifted. The guy’s gun followed him, making his heart pound, asking for his ribs to break and let it leave because unlike the rest of him, his heart seemed to be _smart._

 

The moment Barbara turned on the TV her heart stopped. The first thing she saw was Timmy’s school, surrounded by cops and SWAT teams. The second thing was Dick’s face on her screen because she was calling him.

“ _Hey darling, what’s the sitch?”_ Dick sang through the phone. Barbara’s fingers flew along her keyboard frantically as she tried to pull as much information as possible. She did her best to keep from hyperventilating, Barbara wouldn’t be of any use to anyone if she started panicking right then.  She had to be _smart_.

“ _Timothy.”_ Barbara croaked out, her typing became forceful at the simple thought, that maybe just maybe, she’d messed everything up. She should have sent him to Gotham Academy, she should have fought with him over his school choices until he forfeited and did as she told him to do. Until he followed her orders. She should have pulled a Bruce and a Jim Gordon and done what was best for him and not what he wanted.

 _What he wanted would get him killed._ He had no training. He had nothing in this world but her. She was the only one that could have helped him. She could have stopped him. She should have stopped him, confronted him about his late night escapades and put a stop to everything. _And sent him to Gotham Academy goddamnit._

“Barbara, tell me what you know.” Dick was using his Nightwing voice. He never used his Nightwing voice with her. _She fucked up._ But there were so many things she should have done that she hadn’t and if she didn’t pull her head out of her ass there might not be a next time. She had to be quick before Tim got it into his head to be heroic and stupid and _such a bat._

“Ten men. Armed. They took both the middle school and the elementary school besides it.  Tim is there.” Her boy was there. He was in there with men armed to the teeth making impossible demands and holding children hostage. He was in there with a bunch of scared kids and no training to help himself with.  Barbara was going to have to fix that once she got her boy out of there.

 _“Well, shit.”_ Was all Dick had to say. Barbara hit enter too hard, punctuating his words with urgency.  “ _What do they want?”_

Barbara could hear him moving around. “They want. A school bus. And all the kids from the orphanage that go there.”

“ _Tim is going to…”_

“Yes.”  Of course he was. _Of course he was._ “Looks like Black Mask has found out there’s a mole in their midst. Too bad that mole doesn’t actually live in the orphanage anymore.”

 _“We should have stopped this.”_ Barbara jumped slightly when she heard the loud thump on the other end of the line.

“But we didn’t” Barbara snapped. “We stop it now. We have enough to get Black Mask into Belle Reve. No insanity plea could hold when children are at play. We stop this _now.”_

“ _and we get your boy back.”_

“Of course.”


End file.
